Mist on the Moon
by Super-Dog11
Summary: When Stiles was accidentally bit by Derek, he'd thought he'd be the new hotshot, just like Scott had been. He'd be the one getting the ladies and kicking butt in lacrosse. He was not, however, planning on becoming the Pack's new "mother", which included puppy piles, infinite dirty dishes, and extreme stress. And he was really not to sure about being Derek's mate. Sterek family!pack
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

_A Fist of Fear_

Derek hadn't meant for this to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. It was just supposed to be a simple hunt, to blow some steam off. Not to bite a certain lanky doe-eyed teenager. When Derek had managed to recognize him, it had been to late for him to stop his wolf from taking over. Now Stiles was laying on the ground, looking deathly pale against the brown and yellow forrest floor. Blood had stopped oozing from the bite mark on this bared shoulder, the effects of being a creature of the night already happening.

The Alpha pressed his eyes against the heels of his palms. This is was horrible. He knew his pack would be shocked and probably angry at him, and, oh Lord, Scott would be infuriated, no doubt trying with all his might to get his claws at Derek's throat. The Argents would be beyond annoying, trying to press into their werewolf business and try and embed a few arrows into Derek while they were at it. Derek didn't even want to imagine how pissed off Stiles would be when he came to.

The thought of Stiles brought him back to reality. The reality where he had just bit Stiles, who was starting to groan and shift uncomfortably.

"W-wha' tha'," Stiles slurred, his lashes fluttering slightly. Derek's heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't ready, he couldn't break the news to him, oh God, what was he going to do. He was the leader of his pack, he was _supposed _to know what to do. But once he caught sight of those brown doe-eyes, he panicked.

He yanked back his hand, curled it into a tight fist, and punched Stiles back to being unconscious.

* * *

**I'm just gonna try this out, since I fell in love with this show recently. Feel free to correct any spelling or grammar mistake. If you want more, please review, favorite, anything that you want, and I'll update as soon as I can. **


	2. Chapter 2

_After the war we said we'd fight together  
I guess we thought that's just what humans do  
Letting darkness grow  
As if we need its palette and we need its colour  
But now I've seen it through  
And now I know the truth_

"You _what_?" Derek resisted the urge to smother his groan of annoyance. This was about the sixth time he's explained what happened. Sometimes, he really regretted turning such annoying little pups that always had to be babied.

"I accidentally turned him," Derek growled, his iris flashing red for a moment as his anger surged before he could get it under control again.

"How the hell do you turn someone on _accident_?" Erica snarled right back, her shoulders bristling with rage. Sure, she hadn't really been the nicest person to Stiles, but she did have a crush on him once. Plus, he had always managed to figure stuff out before any of them could, making him a valuable asset.

Derek stood up and growled low. "Watch your tone."

Erica calmed a little, but there was still fury in her eyes. Isaac, who had been attempting to hide behind Boyd, slowly inched towards Derek. "What are we going to do with him?" Derek glanced behind him to where Stiles lay, still unconscious, on the ground behind him.

He sighed and ran a hand across his jaw. "I don't know. Let's just... just wait, alright."

Isaac nodded and Erica looked like she wanted to snap something, preferably Derek's neck. Boyd frowned. "What about Scott? Shouldn't we tell him? Stiles is his best friend."

The Alpha rubbed at his eyes, a tiredness settling over him. He had screwed up. Big time. He sank back down onto the floor beside Stiles, dropping his head into his hands. "I know." He really didn't feel like having yet another fight with Scott. Not right now.

"Just get some sleep. I'll watch over him for tonight."

* * *

Stiles groaned. He felt groggy but at the same time he felt fresher than he had in a long time. Usually, when he woke up, his eyes and head hurt from spending the majority of his night on the computer, staring relentlessly at the screen. But this time it was different. He felt... great. He felt like he could do anything and take on anyone.

He rolled over, face buried into something nice and warm, and wow, did it smell great. Had his dad washed his pillows with a new detergent? He pressed closer, sighing. He would have to ask for the brand later.

"Um..."

Stiles' heart stopped. Okay, something was wrong. Very slowly, he cracked his eyes open to meet... darkness? The hell?

"Stiles.."

Okay, he knew that deep, rumbly voice. He could loosely connect it to several past (and no doubt, future) threats, one describing how he was going to rip Stiles throat out, preferably with his teeth. But the tone of the voice was different this time, not like all of the other times full of scorn and anger. It was slightly shy, almost wavering in hesitation. Alright, something was up and he knew it had to be of the end of the world material to make Derek Hale's voice sound like a 5 year old that had accidentally smashed his mom's favorite vase.

Speaking of Derek Hale, Stiles just so happened to still be pressed against his chest, or that's what he was guessing, from what he could feel of the hard muscle. Not like he was _feeling _or anything. Blood rushed to the lanky teenager's face as he slowly lifted his cracked eyes to see Derek's sculpted face. It wasn't drawn into the natural scowl or frown that had become a trademark of the Alpha's appearance. If anything, it looked guilty and little bit sad. Okay, something was _definitely_ up.

"Oh, h-hey there, Derek, nice to see you. How's it been? Y'know, I don't mean to pry, but what cologne do you use? It's got that nice little kick to it, kinda like the ones I get from those scented magazines. _Not _that I look in magazines, not the perfume kind, but y'know, sports! Yeah, that's what I look at, the nice, bulky sports kind. With muscled men and all that sports equipment. I look at that because, haha, I play lacrosse-"

"_Stiles."_ Okay, wow, glowing red eyes was not needed in a friendly conversation between a werewolf and a human. "Be _quiet."_

And for once, Stiles did be quiet. He wanted to keep blabbering away, nerves and ADDHD working against him, but there was something stopping him from finding his voice. He just couldn't open his mouth and found himself staring down to the left, neck slightly bared to the moody Alpha. Okay, this was getting weird. He'd seen Isaac do this before, when Derek and forced him to submit.

Stiles wasn't a werewolf, nope, he was just a normal, sexually frustrated teenager. But when Derek suddenly let out a low, deep growl that resounded from his barrel chest, Stiles let out a whine of his own and pressed his head against Derek's collarbone, trying his best to appease his Alpha.

The hell? _His Alpha?_ Stiles flushed and jerked back, pulling himself out of Derek's arms that he didn't even had noticed were lace around his back. He stumbled and landed on his butt, the cold hard floor unforgiving. He was not in his room. He was a strange place, with a rusted bus and random decomposing metal pieces around.

"Where am I?" Stiles gasped, looking around wide-eyed.

"My place," Derek replied. He was sitting on steps, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes stared relentlessly at Stiles.

"Y-you _live _here? It's a dump!" Wow, way to go Stiles, you and your big mouth. No wonder Derek wanted to rip your throat out. With his _teeth. _

Derek flashed red eyes at him again, and Stiles whined again, hunching his shoulders up. The Alpha sighed, the redness in his eyes bleeding away, before slowly relaxing. "Stiles, I need to tell you something. You can _not _tell anyone, not even Scott. Just me and my pack knows alright. And please, don't freak out. I'm trying my best not to kill you right now, and I swear, if you open you're mouth, I won't hold myself back."

Well, it seemed like Derek was back to his own self, threats and intimidation in all its glory. Stiles kept his mouth closed, watching the other man quietly.

"Last night, during the full moon, I was... hunting. And you were out looking for Scott, and you got in the way. I couldn't stop my wolf fast enough and I..." Now Derek looked really uncomfortable. He lowered his eyes to his intertwined hands on his knees before meeting Stiles' eyes again. "I accidentally bit you."

Stiles did the first reaction his brain registered. He laughed. It wasn't funny, hell, it was terrifying, but Stiles didn't know what to do. "So am I part of your pack now?" He was snorting and giggling, and tears were welling up in his eyes. God, he was such a geek. Derek was staring at him, brows drawn in concern. Stiles was not acting the way he thought he would.

Slowly, Derek stood up and moved over to Stiles, kneeling close. He wasn't the best at comforting. But he did know that the younger teen needed something to hold onto, to grasp and cry. He could smell the welling of sadness and fear wafting off him. He reached out and put a hand on the younger's neck, eyes flashing red. It wasn't from anger, but more for control over Stiles' emotions and for comfort.

Stiles whined and stared down at his shoes. His cheek was wet slightly from a refugee tear and he had stopped laughing. Everything was so messed up. He felt calmer though, when Derek put a hand on him. He didn't feel like he was suffocating anymore. He felt better.

"Come on, Stiles. Let's go get you to bed. We'll start training for you tomorrow."

* * *

**_Anything Could Happen - Ellie Goulding _**

**_Thank you for reading and sorry for the long wait! Please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes I made!_**

**_I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving or week! _**


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm so, I'm so tired, I'm so tired of trying _

_It seems to me that maybe _

_It pretty much always means no _

_So don't tell me you might just let it go _

_And often times we're lazy _

_It seems to stand in my way _

_Cause no one, no, not no one _

_Likes to be let down _

* * *

When Stiles was dropped off at his house, he was barely able to walk without his legs trembling. The moment the black Camaro was out of sight from Stiles' bedroom window, he collapsed. Tears streamed down his face and resisted the urge to punch the wall. The ride to his house was deathly quiet and tense, Stiles' hands firmly gripping his knees. He was scared that if he let go, he'd beat the crap out of Derek. Or, at least, attempt to.

Stiles ran a shaking hand through his short hair, breathing heavily. He needed to calm down or he'd end up having a panic attack. He gulped down the bile that had built up in his throat. As he began to calm down, he noticed the changes around him. He could hear his neighbor arriving home, tires squeaking slightly as pulled into the driveway. His room smelled mostly of clothes, an odd cottony smell, and of medication.

Everything was going to be different. He wasn't going to be the Stiles, the poor, defenseless human in a world of dangerous threats. To his realization, he was one of those dangerous threats. Suddenly, in a panic, he shot up and ripped open his computer. In a frenzy, he began to look up the updated moon cycles. His heart sank. Tomorrow he would turn into a psychotic beast with fangs and claws and, oh lord, the glowing eyes.

He rubbed at his eyes. He felt as if he had just aged a million years.

* * *

Waking up was different. Everything was so bright, so vivid. He could hear his dad grab his keys, the scribble of a note on the counter, the door shutting, the car leaving. Everything. He took a deep breath. Thank God it was a Saturday.

With a groan, Stiles rolled out of bed and onto the floor. He felt oddly fresh. He stretched out, slim limbs reaching and pulling in the air. Finally, when he was content, he pushed himself up and towards the bathroom.

The shower was warm and relaxing, soothing his muscles. The water felt different on his skin. It felt as if his touch had been boosted up a few notches. Stiles couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Stiles pulled on some clean clothes, sniffing at his detergent. Why was he so disappointed that they didn't smell like Derek had?

The lanky werewolf-teen spent his entire morning surfing through the internet, looking at countless articles and info, and then heading down stairs to watch some Saturday TV. He was in the middle of his fifth bowl of Captain Crunch when Derek arrived.

Okay, well, arrived wasn't the best word for it. Slinking, ghosting, creeping, scaring-Stiles-shitless were some really great adjectives. Nonetheless, when Stiles felt that warm hand on his shoulder, the familiar scent, he snorted the spoon he'd been lifting to his lips in surprise.

"Wha- Oh my god, it _burns. It burns._" Stiles clutched his nose and throat in agony. Derek growled. Wasn't being a werewolf also mean Stiles would be able to sense people when they got near, especially his Alpha?

No, _not _his Alpha. Nope.

"We have training today. The full moon is tonight," Derek grumbled, circling around to the front of the couch and standing in front of Stiles.

Stiles peered up at him, eyes narrowed. "I _do _have a computer, you do realize that, right?" Derek, again, growled. Stiles shut his mouth quickly.

"I'm taking you to our hideout, it'll be safe there-"

"Woah, woah, woah! No, no, no. You think I'm going anywhere with _you_? You, of all people? Being anywhere near you is unsafe. Hell, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even need to have training so that I might be able to control myself from murdering innocent people! You know what, just get out, go, leave, buh-bye. I don't want to see you, or your _stupid _little pack around me anymore. You guys cause me a crap load of stress and work that is not normal for a sexually frustrated teenager like me. I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

Stiles was panting and energy was crackling underneath his skin. He clenched and unclenched his fist. During his rant, he'd risen to his feet and was standing toe-to-toe with the Alpha. Derek's eyes were glowing faintly red and his jaw was clenched. God, Stiles really wished he could learn to keep some things in his head.

"Stiles. You need to listen. You _have _to come with me."

"Oh, so now I _have _to come with you? Like how I have to save Scott at every turn, or how I have to fix every single thing that goes wrong? How I have to look up information that has absolutely nothing to do with me? Or how I have to be the go-to guy when everything is falling apart and I have to have the answers to everything? Is that what I'm here? Just for information?"

Stiles breathed heavily, throat hurting. That last part wasn't meant to come out. Just like the majority of the time he talked. He always said things that he didn't mean to say. Derek was staring at him now, eyes wide and mouth slack. He was shocked. The anger that had rushed over him so fast was gone just as quickly, leaving a throbbing, empty feeling. He collapsed back down on the couch, drained.

"Stiles," Derek said softly. Stiles gulped. Derek slowly lowered himself to Stiles' level, eyes concerned. "Stiles, look. The full moon is tonight, the rest of the pack is back at the station waiting. You were just bitten yesterday. You can't possibly be ready for turning so early. Scott is different. He had an entire week, you only have less than 24 hours. Now, Stiles, _please_ come with me."

_I wouldn't even have to be ready if it wasn't for you. None of this would have had happened if it wasn't for you. _But Stiles didn't say that. For once he kept it to himself, unnaturally quiet. He stood up with Derek, trailing with him to out of the house and to the car.

* * *

Isaac stood really close. Like, really, bubble-invading close. His blue eyes were shining brightly, reminding Stiles of an eager puppy. "Are you training with us?"

Stiles nodded. He couldn't help but let a smile slip when he saw Isaac's fast burst into a grin and eyes glinting yellow. Stiles patted his elbow and then followed Derek to the center of the floor, beside the abandoned bus.

"Aright, first we'll try and control your anger. Now, put some space between your feet- _not that much-, _okay, now lift your arms at the elbow. Loosen up. Now I'm going to come at you. Deflect me."

And just like that, Derek had morphed and was charging Stiles with fangs and claws bared. Stiles felt his heart pound crazily. What was he supposed to do? Punch him? Duck? Bob and weave? Slice? He looked down at his hands. They were normal, no claws, no werewolf changes. He looked back up, and received a fist full of Derek's curled fist. He felt the bone splinter as his nose broke and something snap when he landed on some metal as he crashed to the ground.

"Stiles!" Isaac was beside him in an instant, eyes wide with worry. Stiles groaned, clutching his nose.

"It's broken, _Jesus, _you broke my nose!" Stiles went to sit up, only to be stopped by a sharp pain in his side. "And my rib! You _bastard_!" He lifted his eyes to Derek's grinning face. _Grinning?_ Who the hell did this guy think he was? First he turns Stiles into a werewolf without his permission and then he goes and breaks some of his bones and then he has the audacity to grin? Like everything is just _fucking _grand?

Anger swelled up so fast and so uncontrolled that it scared him for a moment. Then that doubt was gone and Stiles was snarling, eyes glowing. He could feel his claws and fangs, the anger that pulsed through him. He shoved Isaac to the side, slashing his shoulder open in the process. He leapt up and charged at Derek, growling like a maniac.

Derek was waiting for him. He caught the fist that Stiles threw at him, twisting it until it broke. But Stiles didn't feel the pain. He slammed his open palm against Derek's cheek, knocking him to the ground. The Alpha looked bewildered, blood running down his cheek before the wound could close up. Stiles left him no time to bounce back. He slammed down on his chest, knees constricting his legs. He grabbed his throat, squeezing. He lifted his other clawed fist, ready to rip out Derek's throat.

A high-pitched whine ripped through his anger. Stiles could feel the anger evaporating, feeling something else. Worry? He turned around to see Isaac on the floor accompanied by Erica and Boyd. His shoulder was still bleeding slightly, the wounds closing slowly. Why wasn't it healing as fast? Stiles stood up from Derek, slinking over to the hunched wolf. He dropped to his knees beside Isaac, looking into his blue eyes.

With a whine of his own, Stiles pressed his cheek against Isaac's. Isaac stopped whining and pressed back. Stiles purred and moved to the healing wounds. He licked and cleaned the bloody tissue. Isaac purred back, burying his head against Stiles' collarbone. Erica and Boyd were both whining, pressing closer to Stiles and Isaac.

Okay, everything was getting really weird now. Stiles had never seen Scott do this to anyone in the pack? The only person he nuzzled and pressed up against was Allison. And when he started doing that, you had better leave ASAP. Scott had a tendency to not stop when he started touching Allison.

Slowly, the weird craving for skin on skin contact died away, leaving behind a very confused Stiles. He still had his arms around Isaac and Erica and Boyd were making pitiful noises. What was he even doing before this? Oh, yeah, attempting to kill a socially incompetent Alpha. Which reminded him that Derek was still on the ground, staring at him.

Great. Everything was going great.

Isaac's shoulder had healed and he looked kind of embarrassed from the way he had acted. Hell, Stiles was beyond freaking embarrassed. He was mortified.

Derek slowly stood up, almost scared that if he moved too fast, he'd have Stiles at his throat again. When he had egged him to attack him, he'd thought he could take him. He _could _take him. He was an Alpha. So why had ended up on the floor choking?

The Alpha huffed, turning his back to his pack, bounding into the abandoned bus. He was really starting to regret accidentally turning Stiles. That kid screwed up so much in a normal life, sedated by drugs and curly fries, how was he going to fair living as a werewolf? Hell, how would even make it past the first full moon?

He groaned and dropped his head into his hands, listening to the whimpers of his pack outside. He had really, really screwed himself over this time.

* * *

**This chapter was extra long! Thanks to everyone who is sending me PMs and reviewing! Also thanks for fav'ing and following this story, it means a lot! Next chapter will be centered Stiles turning during the full moon and maybe Derek facing some feelings! Also, Scott will be finding out very soon! **

**Jack Johnson - Flake**


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